Copper and Lust
by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa
Summary: Matt knows what it takes to win and L knows that games are being played against him. Neither cares about the outcome. Live for the moment, even if it is nothing but a game. L/Matt


Copper and Lust

By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

Author Notes: I am aware that I should be working on something else, but in my search for some fan fiction I came across only one story that is based even remotely on a relationship between L and Matt. My goodness! I can't be letting that happen, now can I? 

**WARNINGS: Yaoi to the extreme. Sex between two males. Also, it;s slightly like shota, but because I'm making Matt a little older than I think he is in the manga/anime, it won't be quite that bad. **

Disclaimer: I, Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-, do not own, think I own, or will ever own Death Note or its spin-offs. I write this because I love the pairing and have this unexplainable urge to boost up support for it! 

* * *

L knew he should have felt a semblance of guilt, but he couldn't make himself feel it. Matt's skin was too soft, computer-tanned pale white, and far too kissable for any teenager's body to be. It hadn't been him to start the relationship, the detective thought as he ran his fingers down the boy's spine. 

Matt had a way of sneaking up on him, auburn hair in his eyes, pulling at the corner of his pin-striped shirt. There was always something the boy wanted: someone to spend a few minutes with to relish his recent defeat of some awful character he had been fighting for weeks(_"The guy took forever, and I was like, gah! It just won't die! But it finally did, and I laughed about killing the bitch for an hour.)_, the newest problem with Mello (_Pretty-boy is hell-bent on making me drop-kick Near off the roof. I don't know exactly how he expects me to get the kid up there, but I'm supposed to be able to do it by tomorrow night._) and then, as he grew older—or so L believed— something new. 

L ran his tongue over the curve of the boy's lips, begging for them to part. They tasted like salt and cola, hours of sitting up at night staring at a television screen and even more spent in the throws of passion; he couldn't get enough of that taste, the taste of bliss in the middle of the night. Victory was the sweetest taste, and both were celebrating. 

Tongues darting out, touching, corroding innocence never felt so _wonderful_. It wasn't their first, but it wouldn't be there last. Matt knew what to expect when he felt L's hand touching the button's on his pajama's and he remembers that he's fifteen and this was what he wanted more than anything. It wasn't old enough to be routine, but new enough to still send tremors of fear down Matt's spine. There was nothing to fear with L; the man was more than gentle. 

Coaxing the soft material down to Matt's knees, L knows that it'll still be painful. Six times, and yet there was still blood. Matt never seemed to care, and he carried his slight limp so well that no one had yet to take notice of it. Matt was smart, but sometimes L wondered whether there was more going on in the boy's head. Was it truly just the hormones, or was there something more sinister in the air? The red-haired boy moaned when he slid in two fingers to make sure there would be less pain, but was that just a falsified moan? Was there an ulterior motive? 

Matt whimpered when the man's spindly fingers, like a piano man's, or the fingers of an apt gamer, stopped. 

"What's that for?"

"Is this just a game?" 

Matt didn't give an answer, but leaned his body forward, allowing his unclothed body to rub against L's half-dressed body. The friction made Matt moan, his breath musky and hot in the air. 

"Even if it is, I'm willing to play it with you." And L couldn't have expected a better answer. 

Unzipping his jeans, allowing then to pool around his feet until he kicked them off, L could feel the softness of the blanket, bright eyes the color of the rainbow staring at him, and he wished that if Matt was old enough to be having sexual relations, then he would be able to get rid of his childhood blankets. 

As L slid in, Matt let out a groan mixed with pleasure and pain, laced with emotion and longing. His body filled with the man and when L moved and rocked against his body, he was barely able to stop himself from screaming. He wrapped his thin legs around L's waist, giving such low and lusty moans that there was no other choice but for the black-haired, naturally blank-eyed man to comply. 

But in the corner of Matt's mind, hidden below the lust and the copper hair swinging in front of his eyes, sticking to L's forehead as he kissed away the drops of sweat, he still knew he was only third best. That was L's point. Only third best, but it was better than fourth, like he had once been, so long ago. 

There was no reason for L to be guilty, because it seemed that they both were playing a game. 

Both were winning, too. 

* * *

I'm not sure if I liked it. Wasn't half as smutty as I wanted it to be, and I didn't even really get to finish the actual sex scene. But I figured I left it at a good point. I hope that made sense to you, because not everything that makes sense to me will make sense to everyone else. Yeah, I know. 

**Please Review! Tell me what you think! **


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